


Affair of Honour

by Goldy



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-06
Updated: 2013-07-06
Packaged: 2017-12-17 21:37:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/872211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldy/pseuds/Goldy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tea with Jackie was the final straw.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Affair of Honour

**Title** : Affair of Honour  
 **Pairing** : Ten II/Rose  
 **Summary** : Tea with Jackie was the final straw. Fluffy.  
 **Rating** : PG  
 **Excerpt** : _Two things were becoming clear to her. One, the Doctor was intent on having this fist-fight. Two, he was probably going to lose it._

“Okay, that’s it!” came the Doctor, in his loudest and most determined tone of voice. He shrugged off his suit jacket and tossed it to Rose. “You, me, right here, right now.”

He was speaking to Harold Atkinson, one of Rose’s Torchwood colleagues and friends. Harold, who was a good few inches taller than the Doctor and about twice his weight in pure muscle, set down his tea mug with a confused frown. “I’m sorry?”

Next to Harold, Jackie Tyler also peered suspiciously at the Doctor. “Rose, why’s he undressing in my petunia garden?”

Rose shrugged, shifting the Doctor’s jacket in her arms so she could peer at him quizzically.

The Doctor scratched at the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable under the weight of three baffled stares. It struck Rose that there was something quite vulnerable about him, clad only in his shirtsleeves and standing in a pile of crushed petunias in her mum’s back garden. If he didn’t also happen to look so irritated, she might have gone over and hugged him.

“This....” he waved a hand at Harold and Rose, “this.... _flirtation_ —”

“This _what_?” said Rose.

“—has gone on long enough!” He drew himself up to his full height. “I, sir Doctor, challenge you, Harold Atkinson, to a gentlemen’s duel.”

“You _what_?” said Rose.

“Oh here we go again,” muttered Jackie.

“ACCEPTED!” declared Harold. He unzipped his own jacket and then tossed it to Rose, his newly freed biceps bulging under the sunlight.

The Doctor bounced on the balls of his feet, somehow managing to look even scrawnier without his jacket on.

Rose sighed.

***

Rose reckoned that it had probably been afternoon tea with Jackie that had finally done it.

Harold had quietly been courting Rose for years—ever since she’d started working for Torchwood. She hadn’t paid him any attention at first. After all, she’d spent all her time focused on getting back to the Doctor. But as months turned into years, she briefly reciprocated his interest. Harold was funny and bright and a good partner in the field. He was open-minded about alien life but steadfast in his loyalty to protecting Earth. He got on well with her mum and Tony. And he was more than a bit fit.

But then the stars went out, the dimension cannon started to work and that had been that. Harold was nice, but he wasn’t the Doctor.

As soon as they were introduced, the Doctor took an instant dislike to the other man. Harold was the one who worked for Torchwood and got to go on missions with Rose—unlike the Doctor, who adamantly refused a job and then showed up whenever he pleased. Harold remembered birthdays and holidays—for Valentine’s Day, he sent Rose a bottle of wine and a box of chocolates. The Doctor, meanwhile, accidentally destroyed the kitchen stove. Harold babysat for Tony and never let him stay up past his bedtime or eat too many sweets—unlike the Doctor, who seemed to think an in-depth description of the Sontarans and exactly how to kill them was suitable reading material for a five-year-old.

And Harold, apparently, got on so well with Jackie, he was now invited for tea. With Jackie’s best china set. In the back garden.

Somehow, seeing Harold get on with Jackie better than he ever had brought all of the Doctor’s suppressed jealousy and resentment to the surface. Though Rose had always had an inkling that the Doctor was uncomfortable around Harold, he was also, well, _him_ , and she’d never dwelled on it for long.

She’s certainly never expected the Doctor to challenge the other man to a duel.

***

Rose awkwardly shifted both jackets to one arm and then leaned over the Doctor’s shoulder. “Is this really necessary?”

“Rose,” said the Doctor, in a voice thin on patience, “I’ve seen this sort of thing before, you know. Two blokes fighting for the attention of one woman. It’s a tradition that goes back centuries. Just look at any animal species. In fact, visit any city centre pub before last call.”

“Yes, but aren’t you a pacifist?”

There was a moment of silence. “Well, yes, technically.”

“Technically?”

He sniffed. “It’s a human tradition, all right? I’m blending in. Assimilating. All that.”

He said it in such a way that implied he was particularly sensitive about his human credentials at the moment.

“And also—” he continued, now sounding slightly defiant, “‘Harold’ is a rubbish name.”

Rose blinked at him. “Okay, then,” she finally said, accepting that this was one of those strange things the Doctor felt he had to do to prove himself.

“‘Okay, then?’” Jackie screeched. “Are you out of your mind?” She rounded on the Doctor. “Have you actually been in a fist-fight before?”

“Oh, loads of times,” said the Doctor and Rose slumped in relief. But then he added, “Well, once. Sort of. A few hundred years back at a family reunion.” He paused. “But honestly, how hard can it be?”

“This better not be to the death then,” said Jackie, “I’m not picking bits of you out of my petunias.”

“Don’t be so barbaric, of course it won’t come to that.” The Doctor resumed bouncing on his toes, reaching up to loosen his tie. “Well, probably.”

Rose glanced from where the Doctor was bouncing up and down to Harold’s rippling bicep muscles. Harold sent her a strained smile, looking almost apologetic and just a little bit smug.

Two things were becoming clear to her. One, the Doctor was intent on having this fist-fight. Two, he was probably going to lose it.

Giving into the inevitable, Rose dumped both jackets into her mum’s arms and then drew the Doctor into a hug. He seemed surprised at first, but then hugged her back tightly.

“You do know how silly this is, yeah?” she said into his ear. “There’s only one person I want to spend the rest of my life with. And it’s not Harold.”

“I know,” came the response and she was somewhat reassured to hear that he really _did_ seem to know. “But I still want to hit him.” He paused. “It’s a rather bizarre feeling, actually.”

Rose patted him reassuringly on the back and then gave him a light kiss. “You’re going to do great,” she lied.

He beamed at her. “Quite right, too.”

Releasing her, he turned away, approaching Harold with his hands balled into fists. Rose retreated to stand by her mum who was holding both jackets and frowning.

“He’s going to get the stuffing kicked out of him,” Jackie said, by way of greeting.

Rose smiled widely in the Doctor’s direction and spoke out of the corner of her mouth. “I know.” Then, directed at the Doctor, she shouted, “You look great!”

The Doctor grinned and waved. Then, focusing his attention on Harold, he approached the other man carefully, hands held protectively in front of him. He looked Harold up and down as if searching for some weakness he could exploit (there wasn’t one), while Harold watched him without moving. Finally, looking almost bored by the charade, Harold threw the first punch. The Doctor easily ducked and Rose breathed a sigh of relief—maybe with his leftover Time Lord instincts, he _could_ win a fist-fight.

Harold began to throw punches in earnest, but the Doctor easily ducked each and every one of them, continuing to circle Harold like he was waiting for an opening.

Finally, one of Harold’s failed punches left him off balance. He teetered perilously to one side and Rose held her breath, hoping that the Doctor had noticed. The Doctor stood up straight, fingers curling into a fist, but then he stopped with his punch in midair, hesitating. Rose’s heart pounded in her chest.

“Oh my god, he can’t do it,” she whispered to her mum. She felt a surge of pride and couldn’t stop her smile. “He knows this is his chance, but he’s not gonna take it.”

“Idiot,” muttered Jackie, but Rose detected a hint of fondness in her voice.

Sure enough, the Doctor lowered his arm back to his side and opened his mouth to say something—presumably to end the duel—but then Harold drew his arm back. Before Rose could shout a warning, his fist made contact with the Doctor’s face. There was a horrible crunching noise and then the Doctor collapsed onto his back, groaning.

Rose’s heart threatened to explode out of her chest. She ran to the Doctor’s side, falling to her knees beside him. His eyes were closed and his nose was crooked and bloodied. She shuffled over behind him, cradling his head tenderly on her lap.

“Doctor?” she whispered. “Doctor, can you hear me? Doctor?”

There was a long few seconds and then the Doctor coughed, forcing his eyes open. He squinted into sunlight, but then his face broke out into a smile when he found her staring down at him. “Oh, hello,” he said. “Did I win?”

Rose couldn’t help but return his smile. “No.”

“Oh, well, that’s too bad,” the Doctor said. “Blimey, my nose hurts.”

Rose winced in sympathy. “Come on, we’ll just get you up and cleaned off-"

But before she could finish, Jackie Tyler stormed across the lawn, yelling, “YOU!”

The Doctor cringed and feebly tried to raise himself to a sitting position, but Jackie moved right on passed him and up to Harold. She thrust his jacket in his arms. “Nobody comes to my house and hurts my family. I have half a mind to call the police on you, punching someone out like that.”

“What?” said Harold, holding out his hands. “Jackie, I’m sorry, I never meant to—he _did_ start it.”

“Yeah, so what if he did?” Rose demanded, looking up at him. “He never would have hurt you—but _you_ —”

“I was protecting myself!”

“I don’t care what you call it—nobody hurts my family under my roof,” said Jackie. There was a pause while Harold mouthed “family?” and looked pleadingly in Rose’s direction, but Jackie shouted, “GET OUT!!”

There was a slight fumble as Harold struggled to button his jacket back up, but then he turned and practically ran back through the foyer and out the front door.

Rose slumped in relief after he was gone.

“There, you see?” said the Doctor, proudly, hoisting himself to a sitting position. “I told you I could look after it.”

****

The Doctor sat at Jackie’s kitchen table as Rose pressed a wet cloth to his nose. Meanwhile, Jackie bustled in with the tea set and tutted disapprovingly. “A gentleman’s duel, _honestly_.”

Despite the bloody nose, the Doctor still looked rather proud of himself. “Not bad for a first fist-fight, was it? Hmm?”

“Oh, you showed him alright,” said Jackie.

“Are you kidding?” said Rose. “He was right terrified when he scampered out of here, thanks to you, Mum.”

Both Jackie and the Doctor went a little pink and they glanced at each other before quickly looking away again.

“I’ve still gotta work with him at Torchwood, though,” Rose pressed on, looking at the Doctor uncertainly.

“Oh, do you have to?”

Rose rolled her eyes. “If it’s really that important to you, I can ask for someone else to—”

The Doctor grasped Rose’s wrist, pulling her hand down from his face. “No, no, it’s all right.” He paused, thinking. “He hasn’t shown an exceptional ability to hypnotize people, has he?”

Rose frowned. “I don’t think so.”

The Doctor relaxed slightly. “Oh, that’s a good sign.” He lightly touched his nose, wincing when he pulled his fingers away. “Rose—” he said suddenly, looking up at her.

“Yeah?”

He released her wrist and then took her hand, squeezing it tightly. “Do you think....” he cleared his throat, “what about if you.... blimey, this is a difficult question to ask.”

He scratched at his ear, frowning like he was trying to think through a particularly difficult mathematical equation in his head.

“What, Doctor?”

He hesitated and then tried again, this time in a soft voice, “It seems to me that if you— _well_ , both of us—wore a ring, we could avoid similar problems in the future.”

He watched her closely, eyes eager and worried. She stared back at him. “I’m sorry?”

Behind her, there was the noise of a tea cup shattering as it slipped from someone’s hand and hit the floor. But Rose didn’t look over, her attention completely focused on the Doctor.

“A ring,” said the Doctor, his voice suddenly steady. He met her gaze. “What do you think?”

“A.... ring?” Rose said. “Are you....?”

“Yes?” asked the Doctor.

“Yeah?” said Rose, a huge smile beginning to spread across her face.

The Doctor winked. “Oh, yes.”

She gave an undignified yelped and swooped in, careful not to bash him on the nose in her haste to press her lips to his. He kissed her back just as eagerly, one hand coming up to tangle in her hair as the tiny kitchen chair rocked back under the weight of two people.

“Oh my god,” interrupted Jackie, “are you two getting married or not?”

Rose pulled away from the Doctor, slightly flushed and out of breath. They held each other’s gaze in silence, both of them grinning.

Finally she turned to her mother, “Yeah,” she said, “I think we are.”


End file.
